Dean readjusted the backpack casually slung over his shoulder as he peered at the sheet of paper pinned to the noticeboard. His eyes ran down the list of names, finally finding his own, mumbling the room number to himself quietly before setting off to find it.
It was hard to believe that he was here. The building was cavernous, the light bulbs hanging overhead providing brief glimpses of illumination at spaced intervals throughout the dark hallways. He had come a long way in a relatively short amount of time. Although he never intended to get into porn – very few people ever planned on getting into the adult movie industry – he had quickly gained a cult following for his amateur work. His videos ratcheted up views on free sites, eventually catching the eye of a hot-shot producer.
…And that's how he now found himself at The Cell. It was the national headquarters for the largest gay porn company in North America, offering everything from sweet romance to hard-core sadomasochism. Dean's previous scenes had all involved elements of the latter, with his fans praising his ability to take pain and run with it, transforming it into a heady rush of adrenaline and ecstasy.
He wasn't sure what to expect from today's shoot, wondering if it would be all that different from the low-budget scenes from his past. They'd probably have all sorts of fancy shit and high quality toys. Might even spring for lunch, if he was lucky.
Taking three steps at a time up the staircase, he found the door marked 'Set 3' and carefully pushed it open. It was a large space featuring raised platforms, metal cages and a large black box that undoubtedly contained a multitude of kinky props. A spark of curiosity ran through him, intrigued at the prospect of losing control amongst all this finery. It felt like an entirely different world and - when he thought back to the budget motel rooms that he was accustomed to shooting in - it most definitely was.
"Can I help you?" A bald man approached him, a pencil tucked behind his ear, a clipboard in his hands as he moved briskly around the set.
"Dean Ambrose, I'm here for the shoot?" He stuck out his hand, narrowing his eyes when the other man ignored it.
"Ambrose, Ambrose…I don't see your name here. Are you sure you're here for the orgy with Randy?"
Dean followed the man's gesture, his eyes landing on a tall, ripped guy. He was wearing skimpy black leather speedos, his thick arms adorned with skull tattoos, his entire body glistening with a copious amount of baby oil.
Scratching the back of his neck, he brought his attention back to the bald man, "Orgy? Uh, I think I'm scheduled for a one-on-one scene."
Sighing deeply, the man spoke into his mouthpiece and awaited a response.
"Okay, you're actually supposed to be at Set 6. Off you run."
Gritting his teeth, Dean nodded in response and stalked out of the room. He thought this place was supposed to be a professional set up. He didn't come here to be treated like a stupid little kid. Taking a deep breath, he worked on getting a handle on his temper before stepping on to Set 6.
It was a far cry from the other room, full of airy light, with a large, comfortable looking bed stationed in front of a huge picture window. Was this really the right place…?
"Dean Ambrose? Good to meet you, I'm Tyler. How was your flight?"
Dean shook the outstretched hand, his brow furrowing as he drank the set in. Had another shoot run over, and they were late in changing the scenery…?
"It was…good. Am I early, or something? Do you need me to come back when you're ready?"
"No, no, not at all, we're just about ready to get started," Tyler assured him, leading him over to a couch and gesturing for him to sit down. "We're very excited to have you here, there's nothing better than bringing in new blood. Especially one with the extensive following that you've garnered."
Dean's lips curled into a small smile, shrugging modestly at the praise. "It's an honour to be here, man. I never even thought it possible that I could end up here some day. I'm looking forward to seeing what we can produce together. I do have a question, though."
"Ask away," Tyler said, nodding encouragingly.
"This set is really nice, but it's not exactly what I was expecting…I'm from a pretty hardcore background and, while nice, those cotton sheets don't look like they were made for blood and spunk."
Tyler laughed out loud, slapping his thigh as he did so. "I love your honesty. No, I guess it's not exactly what people will be expecting from you."
"So…is this a new trend in the BDSM scene or something…?" Dean ventured cautiously, not wanting to offend the other man, but needing to know where he stood.
"Don't worry, you're in the right place. We're really excited to shoot with you, Dean, but we thought we'd try something a little…different."
"Different?" Dean prompted him, still wearing a bewildered expression.
"We thought we'd venture into unchartered territory with you, and try out a new genre. Something…lighter."
Dean's fingers instinctively reached up to run over his collarbone, a nervous habit that he had developed as a child.
"We think it'll be great for your fans to see you do something different. It's particularly exciting because you were specifically requested for this scene."
"I was…?" His mind was so clouded by confusion, he knew he probably sounded like a complete dumbass, echoing everything that was said to him.
"You sure were, by a very influential player in this industry."
"I'm having a little trouble understanding this, Tyler," Dean explained. "I thought I was here to do a hardcore BDSM scene, but that doesn't seem to be the case. You mind spelling it out for me?"
"Dean, you were handpicked as a scene partner by the biggest pornstar in the world. He took one look at your work and demanded that we set up a scene for you two."
Dean swallowed with some difficulty. The biggest pornstar in the world…? That could be a subjective statement, but only one person fit that description, in his opinion.
"And, uh, who would that be?"
"Me."
A deep, rich voice interrupted them.
Dean stared at the black boots that had appeared in front of them, his eyes slowly running up the length of the impressive body that housed the distinctive voice.
Holy shit.
"Nice to meet you, Dean. I'm Roman Reigns, your scene partner for today."
Holy shit.
I haven't written in a long time, this is a little experiment. Reviews mean updates.